G is for Gravity
by DreamBrother
Summary: Summer Alphabet 2007. A closer look at the brothers in the aftermath of X is for XTC


**Disclaimer: **Numb3rs isn't mine.

**A/N: **Follow-up to **X is for XTC** – not necessary to read that, although a cursory glance won't hurt.

For _simanis_ and _thebondgirl_ who mentioned the possibilities of the after effects – I had a G left in my alphabet track, so I couldn't resist :-).

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**G is for Gravity**

It was late at night but CalSci was never one to hold to normal societal customs. Whereas everyone else would be asleep, or packing up for the night, the small yet respectable university would be abuzz with activity. The darkness of nightfall provided a silent tranquillity not afforded by daylight that allowed many, students and professors alike, to think better, clearer, faster. Tonight, however, there was no tranquillity to be found on campus.

Red and blue flashing lights bounced off the old walls of the educational institution to illuminate the worried, distraught faces of many a student, some huddled together in groups to comfort each other, some scattered, a few giving statements to men in uniforms announcing them as part of Pasadena PD. Here and there older, yet no less troubled, faces could be seen of professors and administrators who, having yet to call it a night, had been on campus when the incident had occurred.

A significant area right outside a library window had been cordoned off with universally-recognized police tape, the drops of red not hidden by the white sheet in the centre of the area belying what had occurred to warrant such action and emotions in those unfortunate enough to witness it.

Charlie finished giving his version of events to an Officer Parkman and looked around for his brother. Spotting him sitting on a bench a bit away from the scene but within sight of it in any case, he frowned as he noticed the way Don cradled his right arm. A passer-by wouldn't have noticed anything amiss but Charlie had spent years trying to spot Don's tells and his observations had become even more acute since he'd started consulting for the FBI.

The younger man's worry etched up a notch further when Don didn't give any sign of noticing his approach, his attention instead diverted towards watching the paramedics put Pet-

Charlie intentionally both cut off his own thoughts as well as step directly into Don's line of sight, blocking his view.

"Hey," he greeted softly.

"Charlie." Don's voice had a strange quality to it, a hint of hoarseness replacing his normally smooth tone.

"I'm done giving my statement to the police." Charlie tried to catch his brother's eye but wasn't very successful.

"Same here. We have to go over to the police station to officially sign our statement."

"Officer Parkman said we can do that in the morning, there's no hurry." Charlie threw a look back over his shoulder and once satisfied that the paramedics had done their job and were loading up the ambulance, he took a seat next to Don on the bench. "You should come home with me; we can go to the police station together after breakfast." Okay, maybe the mention of food wasn't the best idea at the moment so Charlie quickly forged on. "But first, I'm taking you to the ER."

That got Don's attention and his head whipped around to face Charlie. "Why? What's wrong?"

Charlie shook his head with a slight smile. "Not for me, doofus. You think I haven't figured out that you hurt your shoulder?" Charlie waited for the immediate rebuttal and was instantly rewarded with Don trying to shrug, causing both brothers to wince, one in pain, the other in sympathy.

"I'm fine," said Don, looking back towards the library where the students were still gathered. "I'm not the one who needs… needed… medical help."

"You, your shoulder, took the weight of a man. Peter is – was - a 180 easy, he wasn't a lightweight. The fact that grabbing him didn't pull you over the ledge yourself…" Charlie shook his head though his brother couldn't see. "You might not have dislocated your shoulder but you still need to get checked out properly. Come on, let's go, there's no point staying here any longer." Charlie stood up to show his resolution in getting his brother out of here but Don remained seated, stubborn as ever.

"I let him fall, Charlie." The words were said softly, perhaps Don hadn't meant for Charlie to hear them but that was beside the point.

Charlie sat back down again only this time he sat sideways, facing his brother, his left leg pulled up on the bench, the knee touching Don. "He chose to jump, Don. The fact that you managed to grab him, that you managed to hold on to him as long as you did, was more than could have been asked of anyone."

"I _had_ him, Charlie; I let him slip from my grip."

Charlie bit down a sigh. "You told him to climb up, he chose not to."

"He was on drugs; he didn't know what he was doing."

"He _chose_ to take the drugs, he _chose_ to go up on that roof, he _chose_ to jump off," Charlie rebutted. "What happened to Peter… it's tragic but if there's anyone to blame for this, you're not one of them, Don." When Don still didn't seem to buy it, Charlie tried another method. "He was a student of mine, Don, I saw him often. I should have noticed he was exhibiting suicidal behaviour. His friends should have noticed, and _I_ should have noticed."

Don shook his head. "It's not your fault, Charlie. What if he wasn't suicidal? What if the drugs just messed with his brain but it was something I said that made him jump?"

Charlie bit down a groan at the sudden turn around to Don putting blame on himself again. "I was there, Don, I heard all that you said. You and I both know that's not true, and Megan will agree if we ask her. What's done is done, Don. Stop beating yourself up over it."

Don was silent for a moment or two and then stood up suddenly, Charlie noticing that he was careful not to jar his right shoulder. "Come on, let's go home before Dad starts getting worried," he suggested quietly. Don might have changed the subject but Charlie knew he still felt responsible for what had happened.

"No," replied Charlie firmly. "We're going to the ER."

"Charlie-,"

"Don," quickly interjected Charlie. "We're going to the ER, and _then_, we can go home. And give me your keys, I'm driving. My car can stay in the teacher's lot, I'll car-pool with Dad in the morning."

Wordlessly, Don handed the keys over. In much the same vein, the ride to the ER was quiet and it wasn't until Charlie and Don were back in the SUV again - Don with a small bottle of pain-killers in his pocket and instructions to sign up for some physical therapy – that significant conversation took place.

"Head to my apartment, yeah?"

"Don, just come home with me."

"I agreed to the ER, Charlie, now it's your turn to give. Take the car back to your place; I'll have one of the guys pick it up from there."

"What about the statement at the police station?"

"Don't worry about me, I'll get mine done, you can swing by for yours whenever you want. Can we go now, please?"

Charlie sighed but didn't push the matter, but it was with reluctance that he put the gas guzzler in gear and pulled out of the hospital parking lot and leaded east, towards Don's apartment but away from the Craftsman.

x-x-x-x-x

That had been a few days ago and Charlie hadn't seen Don since that night after the ER visit. As Don had said, David had picked up Don's SUV late in the morning while Colby gave Don a ride to Pasadena PD as well as to the hospital where Don learnt a few exercises to help his shoulder heal quicker, and then ditched therapy. Charlie suspected his older brother had put his FBI training to good use and somehow convinced the PT to sign off on the release saying he didn't require anymore one-to-one help.

All of this Charlie knew through Alan who'd paid his elder son a visit the afternoon after the incident to check up on him. Phone messages had been their sole means of communication since then, with both calling at times when the other couldn't, or wouldn't, pick up. Injured as he was, Don couldn't drive over to the house of CalSci to pay Charlie a visit, and Charlie himself was wrapped up in work, not to mention the aftermath of having a student commit suicide in school. The memorial service for Peter had been this morning and though Charlie had left Don a message asking him to attend, Don had been a no-show and the younger man strongly suspected that is was because of the guilt Don undoubtedly still felt.

In a flash of insight, Charlie had understood that Don didn't want to face all the people, the mourners of Peter, whom he'd 'let down' by not saving the younger man. Hard at work as Charlie was at the blackboard, he still found his mind was wandering, trying to find a solution to this.

As smart as Charlie was, his brain had yet to come up with an answer.

The knock at the door was a welcome distraction from his two-track mind and Charlie turned his head to see Molly Walker standing in the doorway, another one of his students and, as it turned out, a close friend of Peter's.

"Molly. Hello. What can I do for you?" Charlie asked as he put down his chalk and turned towards his student.

"Hey Professor Eppes, am I interrupting you? I can come at another time…" Molly offered hesitatingly, pointing over her shoulder to indicate her willingness to leave.

"No, no not at all. Come, sit," requested Charlie as he removed a stack of paper from its resting place on one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Molly sat down. "Thanks. I won't be long."

"Don't worry about it. How are you doing? I know this must be a hard time for you…," Charlie began hesitatingly. There was no ignoring the redness around his student's eyes and they both knew it.

"I'm… doing alright, I guess. I think a part of me still can't believe that Peter did what he did," Molly said softly, staring at a spot on the desk. She suddenly looked up at Charlie. "That's why I'm here actually; I know you and your brother were on the roof when Peter jumped."

"Yes," Charlie admitted, starting to feel slightly uncomfortable, afraid suddenly that Molly might have come to place blame.

"I wanted to thank you, and Agent Eppes, for what you did. Your actions gave Peter a chance, and though it didn't work out, I know that as his friend, I appreciate the effort."

Okay, Charlie hadn't been expecting that. "Oh," was all he could say.

Molly continued on, unabated. "Peter's a pretty stubborn guy, I knew him for over four years and I know what he was like. His parents were going through a divorce, and he hardly talked about it, you know? And with finals, and Lizzie breaking up with him…," Molly caught herself. "Anyway, with the drugs… he made a mistake, and it cost him. All I'm saying is, I hope you don't feel responsible for what happened. Once Peter made up his mind, no one on Earth could stop him from doing what he wanted." Molly laughed and sniffed at the same time. "It was kinda what made us such good friends, actually."

Charlie didn't know what to say. "Uh.. thanks, Molly, it's very kind of you to come and say this..."

"How's Agent Eppes doing?" Molly asked to spare Charlie.

"He's… well…," Charlie frowned as he tried to find a way to word the response so that it didn't give too much of his brother away and at the same time, wasn't a lie.

"Feeling guilty, isn't he?" At the Professor's surprised look, Molly added, "My dad's a retired cop, I learnt all about guilt complexes early on from him. If there's anything I can do to help…" The young student offered, shrugging her shoulders in helplessness.

A bright idea suddenly popped into Charlie's head. "Actually, there might be something you can do…."

x-x-x-x-x

"Charlie, I'm really not in the mood to go out for coffee," grumbled Don as Charlie put his Prius in park. About half-an-hour ago, the young mathematician had shown up unannounced on his brother's doorstep and using a combination of little-brother-tactics and pleading, had convinced Don to shave and dress up a little in order to go out.

The sling that the PT had forced Don to wear in exchange for letting him off early was partially concealed by the FBI agent's dark jacket and physically, it was the only remnant of the events of that night. The bruise on Don's torso, a result of slamming not too kindly against the ledge as he'd grabbed Peter but which Charlie was thankfully not aware of, had begun to fade to show the passage of time.

Emotionally, however, Don was as troubled, if not more, since the moment he'd felt Peter slip from his grasp, mentally exhausted as he tried to figure out for certain if the young man really _had_ jerked his hand out of Don's grasp, or if that was simply a figment of Don's imagination trying to protect him conscience.

"You won't regret this, trust me," said Charlie as he opened the car door and slipped out of the vehicle. Don muttered under his breath for a moment before following his brother out of the car, his eyes falling on the façade of _Lattetude_, a relatively small coffee shop a few minutes away from Don's apartment which nonetheless served pretty good coffee.

"Come on," said Charlie, nodding his head towards the door before leaving Don in his wake, expecting him to not be far behind.

To say Don was surprised would have been an understatement when he saw Charlie greet a young, petite blond who'd been sitting at a table for three inside the shop, seemingly waiting for them.

"Hey Molly, hope you found the place alright."

"It was no problem, Professor," the young lady replied before looking at Don who stood slightly away, silent.

"Molly, meet my brother, Don. Don, this is a student of mine, Molly Walker – she was a very good friend of Peter."

Don immediately felt worse, his guilt increasing if that was possible, and he had to control himself from swearing under his breath. He had no idea what Charlie was up to but damn, when he got his brother alone again--

"Nice to meet you, Agent Eppes," said Molly, the recrimination Don expected in her tone strangely not present.

Before Molly or Don could say another word, Charlie quickly spoke up. "Why don't you two sit and talk, I'll get all of us coffee, alright? Great." With that, Charlie walked away hastily to give Don and Molly some privacy.

He placed the order and as he waited for his credit card to be charged, he looked over his shoulder and felt a great burden lift of his shoulders when he saw the change Molly's words had brought on Don. The dark cloud that had seemed to settle on Don since that night had vanished and Charlie smiled extra brightly at the employee behind the counter when she asked him to sign on the dotted line.

**Khatum**

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End file.
